


Five times he fell

by FFFantasies



Series: Lyrics curling like Leaves [2]
Category: Filthy Frank Show - Fandom
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, each chapter will have their list, literally so many kinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 12:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9821540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFFantasies/pseuds/FFFantasies
Summary: and one time it was nice.





	1. Bloodsport

**Author's Note:**

> blood play, mild exhibitionism. Basically what would happen if Frank went with Chin Chin that night in He's so Nice. An AU of my own frekin fic.

They’re…in a realm. Frank doesn’t recognise this one, he doesn’t know if he’s been here before or not but there’s alcohol and someone is handing him a joint. There’s laughing, maybe it’s his, because it’s bouncing around in his head and rattling across his teeth so maybe it really is him.

There are so many people here, hot and sweaty bodies pushing and shoving against him and he wonders where Chin Chin is. There are so many creatures here, cold and clammy hands grabbing at his arms and plucking at his clothes, he wonders where Chin Chin is. There aren’t enough chromosomes here, the air feels tight and heavy and he can’t get a deep enough breath and he wonders where Chin Chin is.

“Ore wa.”

Frank hears the voice laughing over the rest of them but he doesn’t know where its coming from and the people are keeping him stuck between them. He stumbles and dumps alcohol all over himself and it’s cold, colder than it should be he thinks but he’s not sure? The people don’t mind, they laugh louder and the hands lock around his shoulder so he can’t move and can’t run away. He doesn’t want to run though, he doesn’t think he does, because the music is nice and the alcohol that made it into his mouth is warm and makes his head buzz in the nicest way.

“Hey baby, I eat ass,” he laughs into some chick’s face and her eyes are bright as she smiles, her eyes crinkle at the corners but they’re so bright. He grins at her with all his too sharp teeth and knows she’s like him, not exactly but enough and he wants to play with another toy.

…

He’s not a toy…Chin Chin-

“and I suck dick,” she giggles and oh, it’s her hands around his shoulders holding him there, nice. He misses a beat, stumbles again and her tongue is in his mouth but he doesn’t mind. He grabs her by the hips, pulling her closer, and bending his head into the kiss because he likes kissing, it makes him feel good. She’s good, she knows all the little tricks to it, she knows just how to suck on his tongue and how much teeth to use to really make him happy. Hint: it’s a lot, she bites his tongue until it bleeds and he moans for her, she’s good.

He can feel her nails digging into his neck, slicing thin lines into his skin but he doesn’t mind, it’s good, it’s what he’s used to and what he wants. She bites him again and he groans for her, tastes his own copper-silver-burning blood and sighs into her mouth because he can be good too. She wants someone to bend to her for once, she wants someone who’ll do what she says and he doesn’t know whose she is but he’s willing to dance for her.

She scratches him again and it’s deeper this time, he can feel the tiniest trickle of blood crawling down his neck wet and hot and he wants more of it. He reaches back for her hands and bring them around to the front, to his throat and tilts his head as far back as he can without breaking the kiss just so she knows what he wants. He shouts into her mouth when she does it, his breath shudders out of him when she doesn’t let up and the sting is sweet when she sticks her tongue halfway down his throat.

Frank feels like she’s trying to crawl inside of him or maybe she’s trying to touch him inside and out and he smiles and it’s not nice. He feels his lips quirk into the same shit eating grin that he has whenever he goes off on one of those gay rants for YouTube, he feels his grin go sharp and feels the sleepy, dazed calm fall away like an old skin. He wants to be good for her but she’s too ambitious, too bold and too stupid, she should know she can’t **_have_** him.

The music is loud but it’s sharp now and he can hear every single synth sound, the chatter of the crowd is a roar but he can make out individual conversations, he even can smell the different types of alcohol on their breaths. His grip on her hips tightens until she flinches and oh she’s _that_ kind of pet, she likes to cause the pain but can’t take it and that’s bullshit. His smile turns into a smirk, turns nasty and she digs her nails into his neck until there’s so much blood it’s soaking into his collar but he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Fuck you!” she snarls breaking the kiss and he can’t see it but he knows there’s a string of spit between their mouths. He _can_ see her eyes and they’re bright, vile green and he thinks he knows whose she is or who she’s running from because she is.

“Fuck you harder, sweetheart,” he laughs, shoving her away and into the crowd who snatch her up without a blink and he’s alone. He’s standing in a crowd of creatures and he can hear all of them, every gasp of pleasure and moan of pain and orgasmic whine and death rattle. He feels a whine building in his own throat because where, where, where…

“ _You’re being bad, Fake_.”

The hands on his hips are wet with something but they’re cold and that’s all that matters. Frank leans into the touch, presses back against the solid body behind him and rests his head on Chin Chin’s shoulder ~~bares his throat~~.

“ _Bad dog_ ,” Chin Chin hums and a shudder ripples through the crowd and Frank can’t tell if it’s from fear or anticipation because even when he’s weak Chin Chin is still the most powerful one here. Frank call feel himself soaring, feel the smile on his face turn reverent because he belongs to this person, he was good enough for Chin Chin to come back for him. Even though he fucked up on the roof in the fight, even though he lost the show and all the chromosomes he’s still here.

“I can be good,” he promises, reaching down with shaking hands to rest them on top of the cold, wet ones on his hips. Everything is soft again when sharp nails slice through his clothes and skin without a second’s hesitation and Frank doesn’t know when he closed his eyes. The music is a slow pulse behind his ears, syrup slow, and his breath sticks in his throat as he indulges in the sting.

“I can be the best,” he breathes as Chin Chin keeps slicing through his skin in the middle of this club, in this realm he doesn’t know but thinks he should. Everything is far way except for the blood seeping into his pants, running his legs, sticky and hot. Everything is far away except for the burning cold hands cupping his ass and the tongue snaking over the back of his neck.

“ _Shhh_ ,” Chin Chin whispers and he didn’t even realise he was saying anything, didn’t realise his mouth had fallen open in a whimper so desperate he’s almost embarrassed by it. Almost. None of the people here care, they’re too wrapped up in whatever the fuck is actually going on and in each other. Frank can relate.

“ _Quiet_.”

Chin Chin laps at the blood slowly, taking his time to savour it the way he would a sacrifice and Frank shivers and shudders while he does. He’s hard, he’s so hard, and he wants to twist around so it’s his front pressed up against the solid body behind him but he doesn’t move a muscle, he’s being a good dog. He’s a good dog and he gets a treat when a palm rubs against him, when thin fingers press just a little too hard just below the head

Frank hears the hitch in his own breath when Chin Chin’s tongue rasps over the deepest scratch, the one that curves around his collar bone and he moans low in his throat when cold fingers press the marks on his hips. His blood is hot, a perfect contrast to the fingers smearing his blood all over his skin; his dick is burning, the perfect contrast to the fingers wrapped around his cock. There are so many hands on him, he forgot what it was like to be touched everywhere at once, how overwhelming and distracting and good it felt.

“ _Mine now_ ,” Chin Chin growls and Frank understands him.

“ _Mine then_ ,” Chin Chin mouths into his skin, too sharp teeth digging into the delicate flesh of his neck but Frank doesn’t give a shit. He doesn’t feel the pricks of pain, he doesn’t feel the stinging at his hips or the ache in his bones from, from, from…

“ _Mine forever_.”

Frank doesn’t feel anything but freezing hands branding their mark onto his body, nothing but the sweet ache of his cock and the teasing hand stroking him. He doesn’t hear anything but his God whispering promises in his ear like prayers, like he’s the one being prayed to.

He doesn’t smell anything but the silver-rust blood and the only thing he knows is that loving a Dark God is nothing but a blood sport.


	2. Hurt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good dogs get treats. Bad dogs are punished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinks: electric play, masochism, multiple orgasm, dildo

He hears the button before he feels the shock, hears the muted _thup_ of the rubber covered plastic then his blood is electric.

“ _Quiet_.”

He’s screaming? No, no screaming, that’s not allowed.

“ _Shh_.”

He forces his jaw closed, clenches his teeth and feels the pressure in his temples, feels the instant ache in his neck.

“ _Good boy_.”

Frank’s breathing short and sharp through his nose, he’s fighting the need to curl in on himself and he loses the battle of dropping his head. He’s covered in sweat, his hair’s dripping with it and his muscles are twitching under it, he’s electric.

Pain, pain, _relief_.

The current cuts and he can think, he can breathe, he’s still fucking hard.

“Th-thank you,” he pants, gulping and swallowing air like it’s food. His lungs are burning, his throat is soar and his cock is heavy, leaking, between his legs. Frank’s never felt more alive.

The shock collar is worse than the one they used in the gentlemen’s guide, it’s stronger and better distributed. The skin of his neck is raw but the muscles in his thighs ache from spasming and his back throbs from being kept ramrod straight when all it wanted to do was bend forward. Frank knows Chin Chin likes to hear him scream, to hear him shout himself hoarse and raw until he’s choking on his on spit.

Chin Chin’s a sadist like that.

“More, please,” Frank gasps, throwing his head back and knowing exactly how he looks. He’s on his knees, hands behind his head because he’s keeping them there, cock heavy and leaking between his legs and ass red from a spanking. The sting is duller now but still there and if he closes his eyes, forgets the electricity buzzing in his veins, he can almost feel the sharp, lingering ache of the smacks.

He breathes out heavily when a hand traces his spine, claws pressed hard but not hard enough to break the skin. Another hand on his chest, over his heart and moving in time with his heaving chest and Frank thinks it’s too sentimental, too caring, then the fingers are pinching his nipples until he whimpers and there’s no caring there. Two hands fit themselves over the marks on his ass and he grinds doing into them, tries to make them do something, _anything_.

Frank can’t see Chin Chin. The room is lit but the shadows are deep and Chin Chin’s good at hiding in the shadows. He stays in them until just before he presses the button, then he’s out, standing in front of Frank when he can barely keep his eyes open to see the open glee on his God’s face. He wants to see it so bad, to remind himself he’s good enough, to prove leaving was his fault and not Chin Chin’s.

“Please,” he begs, bowing his head and letting his arms sag just the slightest bit. He’s good, he’s good, he’s a good boy, Chin Chin even said he was so he must be.

“Please,” he moans as his knees slip wider, until they’re as wide as they’ll go and he’s almost in a perfect split now. If he leans forward far enough, he can hump the ground until he cums but no, that would be bad, not good and he wants to be good.

“ _Open_.”

Frank doesn’t need to ask what, he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue like a good dog and even closes his eyes because he doesn’t know what’s coming. The plastic taste is a disappointment, the dildo’s big and it’s thick and the flavoured lube on the tip smears across his tongue perfectly but it’s not what he wanted. It hits the back of his throat and he swallows around it, sucks on it because he’s still good, he whines deep in his throat but he’s still good.

The hands on his ass squeeze hard, hard enough to bruise and leave some nice marks and he whines again. The hand on his chest moves up to his neck, fingers slipping between the shock collar and his skin, soothing the raw flesh and tracing his Adam’s apple and the bulge in his throat from the dildo. There’s even another pair of hands massaging his burning thighs, rubbing the tense muscle and making him relax in increments until he’s trembling with the need to cum, cum now and cum hard and **_cum_**.

“ _Good boy_.”

He doesn’t hear the _thup_ this time, doesn’t realise the shock’s coming until he’s pitching forward with the force of it. His face hits the ground hard and he feels his nose break on the hard concrete and the pain is sharp, broken bones are always sharp but _fuck_. His blood is buzzing, burning, _hurting_ with the electricity ripping through him and his ass is high in the air as a hand wraps around his cock.

He doesn’t even think, he’s fucking into it, moaning around the dildo still in his mouth and trying to breathe all at the same time. He feels a foot on his lower back, pressing down and he lets himself collapse, knees sliding out from under him until he’s flat on the ground. The hand on his cock doesn’t stop and the hands on his ass keep squeezing and he’s trying to breathe with blood in his nose.

The current is so strong, he’s sure it’s dangerously high, not meant to stay on this long but he fucking loves it. The hand around his throat is tight, does nothing to stop the flow of electricity and is getting tighter by the second, so tight he feels his vision tunnel. He’s writhing in pleasure-pain-pleasure, humping the floor practically and if he could, he’d beg for more.

“Yesh!” he groans around the fake cock in his mouth as he cums on the floor, on himself. He grinds his own face into the concrete, knows it’s what Chin Chin wants to see and raises his hips just enough to show off his filthy cock because he knows how to present. He knows how to be a good boy.

“ _Good boy_.”

The electricity kicks up a notch and Frank sees white, sees black and is cumming again. He turns his face to the side so he can breathe, just breathe, but he makes sure to put pressure on his broken nose to keep the pain playing. He can barely breathe but he keeps sucking on the dildo even though his throat burns from the screams he couldn’t make. His thighs are trembling but he still gets his knees under him just enough to raise his hips and present again.

Frank’s a masochist like that.


End file.
